Just when I think I am going to
have a dull quiet day at home after
spending much time with friends
I get a ring from Patrick.
'Come and do your laundry at my house and do lunch'.
... and I do because it's always so much fun.
He picks me up in his old very low to the ground MG.
It looks like a toy. Inside it makes you happy.
So unreal.
I feel like I am a child,
only I am carrying my laundry
in the very small back trunk.
(I refuse to install a washing machine in my tiny house.)
We arrive at his house only to be asked by his
next door neighbour to share a glass of home made wine.
It is 'Mashing the Grape Day' for his next batch. He is serious.
In his garage I see olive oil, cans of fish, freezers of frozen fish.
Once upon a time he was a grocer I am told.
I end up returning to Pat's finishing my wine and
carrying sardines from the generous Portuguese neighbour.
We have lunch and spend time looking over
his travels to Greece and Spain.
100's of pictures.
I feel like I am there again.
All I can remember now is
the House of Maidens in Athens.
7 maiden sculptures on pillars,
olive trees, and the moon.
Laundry done.
Time to slip back home.
We have caught up.
IS
